


lay it on me

by ethex



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Everyone Is Observant Except Simon, M/M, Simon feels too much oh my God, Simon-centric, Valentine doesn’t like paying taxes, more like vigilantes, more or less
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 22:47:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11746764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ethex/pseuds/ethex
Summary: The second Clary disappears behind the door, all eyes turn to Simon. He looks back at them, his own eyes widening.“What? Why are you guys staring at me like that?” He asks nervously.“You know.” Isabelle states. For a moment, Simon has no idea what they’re talking about.“I don’t.” Simon responds hesitantly.“You know about Jace.” Alec clears up.“YOU know about Jace?” Simon hisses, leaning in and dropping his voice to a whisper, “That he’s the… the Shadowhunter?”-Loosely based off this tumblr post: “ok that trope where the superhero saves their crush in disguise and they’re like ????? who are they???? can we just get rid of that and have the rescued instantly recognize them by their voice”





	lay it on me

**Author's Note:**

> This took me a while to finally write down and it’s the first thing I’ve finished in SO long! I’ve just started getting back into fic writing after years (yep) of writing down little paragraphs and never finishing anything. So… I hope this is as good as I wanted it to be. I’m really self conscious about this whole thing being a dumpster fire but, as the mother of the dumpster fire, I’ve got to have some pride, you know. 
> 
> As it’s more or less an AU, some things here and there are different. Specifically: Jace is a Wayland, and he never finds out he’s a Morgenstern and, later on, a Herondale. He IS a Herondale, of course, he just doesn’t know it here. I have little plot bunnies bouncing around about maybe tackling that whole thing in another piece but this is all I’ve got so far.
> 
> Also: there's one mention of violence. It’s nothing too graphic but, just in case! 
> 
> [the full tumblr post that this is loosely based off](http://blackstarising.tumblr.com/post/144379809033/ok-that-trope-where-the-superhero-saves-their)
> 
> Enjoy <3

Clary is hunched over her laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard, and all Simon can do is watch, a little surprised, a little impressed.  
  
“You’re really putting a dent into that article, aren’t you,” he asks, humor in his voice. They’re in the campus library and it’s only ten in the morning but Clary’s already looking frazzled.  
  
“I’ve got to get this done by next week,” she sighs. Clary is one of the editors for the college magazine, and as the semester’s already halfway over, the group for the magazine has been trying to make the last couple issues memorable. Simon still wonders who the hell reads the college magazine but the student body is huge, and apparently, many people do. Simon himself only ever reads it when one of Clary’s articles is in.  
  
“I still don’t know why you’re so interested in that guy,” Jace says flippantly, tapping on the screen of his tablet and trying to beat a level of that angry birds game. Despite being an editor, Clary’s taken the task of writing one of the articles herself, and she’s writing it on their corner of Brooklyn’s own vigilante: The Shadowhunter.  
  
“Are you kidding me?” Clary stops typing for a moment to gawk at Jace. “How many vigilantes are there in, like, the whole world? And the fact that we have on right here in our part of New York? How could you not be interested?”  
  
“Okay but if we didn’t have a vigilante here in New York, that would just be so disrespectful to every comic book ever. It’s fate.” Simon chimes in, flipping the textbook he’d been trying to read shut.  
  
Jace rolls his eyes at Simon. “Whatever. There’s like, three or four of those people in New York alone.  All I’m saying is, he sounds about as boring as the rest of them.”  
  
Clary shrugs at him, going back to typing away. She opens her mouth to retort to Jace when she stops, gasping.  
  
“Oh, look at this!”  
  
She turns her laptop towards them, showing a news article from early this morning and playing the video attached, about how The Shadowhunter had saved a young woman who’d been cornered by a couple thugs at around five in the morning. They’d all been knocked out cold in a matter of minutes.  
  
_“I owe him my life,”_  the woman on screen says, eyes shining with tears.  _“I wish I knew who he was so I could express my gratitude.”_  
  
The reporter goes on to talk about how The Shadowhunter makes  _‘night life in their streets much safer than they’d used to be’._ He’s stopped countless cases of muggings, attempted rapes, kidnappings, and even the occasional violent drug smugglers and gang skirmishes. There have been a bit less attempted crimes in general, most likely because those kinds of people fear being caught by the vigilante.  
  
Clary leans over and scrolls down to show a grainy cell phone picture from an eyewitness; it’s of the vigilante leaping over a roof top away from the scene, all black leather, even his blurry mask.  
  
“He’s so dreamy,” Clary mumbles, facing her laptop back towards her. “I’d kill for an exclusive with him.”  
  
Jace snorts. “The guy dresses in leather, Clary. Good luck with that.” He stands, pushing his chair in and shoving his tablet into his bag.  
  
“One of these days, he’ll save your life, and you’ll take your cynicism back.”  
  
“I can take care of myself,” he claims dryly while lifting the strap of his bag, “We have class. You coming, Lewis?”  
  
Simon blinks, checking his watch. “Oh. Oh, yeah, sure.” He pulls his bag on, textbook in hand. “See ya, Clary.”  
  
She waves him away, already back to her article, and Simon follows Jace out of the library, rushing a bit to get into step with him once they’re walking towards the science building. Simon had only taken the biology class for the credit; Jace being in it was an added bonus (though he would never voice that aloud).  
  
“You know, out of all the people I’ve met, you seem to be the only person who doesn’t like that Shadowhunter guy.” Simon tells him.  
  
Jace gestures randomly. “It’s not that I don’t like him, it’s just that I don’t get the hype. He’s probably just an ordinary guy with a day job and a lot of time on his hands. Nothing special in the long run.”  
  
“All vigilantes are kinda like that,” Simon points out, “even Superman. And he’s an alien.”  
  
“Superman isn’t real.”  
  
“Give it a few years!”  
  
Jace just huffs at Simon the way he usually does when Simon makes a ridiculous joke and he doesn’t want to bother answering back.  
  
Simon hesitates a little, before voicing his thoughts, humor in his tone. “You sure you aren’t just a bit jealous that Clary’s more into that guy than into you?” It’s probably not the smartest thing; joking about Jace’s thing for Simon’s best friend, Clary, when Simon himself has had an embarrassing crush on Jace for almost a year now. But Simon has himself fooled into thinking that if he jokes about them being together, it’ll pave an easier path towards acceptance.  
  
Jace shoots Simon a look, eyes trained on him. They’re bright blue, with some brown in one of them and Simon has to shake his attention off of them. “Why would I be jealous, and why would I want Clary to be into me?”  
  
Simon nudges Jace teasingly. “Sure, alright.”  
  
Jace rolls his eyes at him in annoyance but doesn’t deny it, and Simon ignores the feeling in his stomach that always comes back around at those times, instead treating him to a disbelieving snort.

  
\------

  
Simon’s curled up on the couch in the living room of his and Clary’s apartment on a calm Saturday evening, Isabelle Lightwood lying next to him with her legs on his lap. Clary had gone to her mother and Luke’s house for the weekend, and had invited him, but Simon had refused, telling her that he’s got to work on a paper the next few days but to tell them that he misses them and that he’ll visit soon.  
  
He’s tuning his guitar and listening to Izzy complain about Professor Aldertree as the news plays quietly on the television across from them.  
  
“I can’t believe I thought he was cute – “  
  
“– in your defense, we all did,” Simon cuts in, “and kinda still do.”  
  
“– he’s such a perfectionist, it’s ridiculous. Also, he refused to bump my eighty-nine point eight to a ninety.”  
  
“Okay, you’re right, he is an asshole.” Simon’s never had Aldertree as a professor; he’d always thought the guy was cool until Isabelle recounted all her experiences with him, which were a lot.  
  
“Thank you!” She throws her hands up in the air. “Jace pissed him off this morning and got sent out of the lecture, but it was so worth it. Aldertree gets so offended when you question his theories.”  
  
At the mention of Jace, Simon’s fingers still on the strings of his guitar. He remembers earlier today when Clary had stumbled over a crack in the sidewalk, and Jace had caught her before she’d fallen. They’d both shared a laugh, Clary joking about her own clumsiness, and Clary hadn’t moved her hand from the crook of Jace’s elbow, nor had he made any move to step away from her. Simon had been left a little bit behind, feeling like the third wheel and trying not to be horribly and selfishly jealous of his best friend.  
  
Simon sets his guitar down on the floor by the couch, sighing. Isabelle raises her eyebrows. “Something wrong?”  
  
“I just – no. it’s nothing.” Simon lies. Isabelle, as usual, sees right through it.  
  
“Simon, are you – “  
  
Suddenly, Isabelle sits up, eyes focused on the television screen. “Turn it up,” she orders quickly, and Simon does as he’s told. The reporter on screen is standing in front of a bank, police cars and bystanders scattered in the background.  
  
_“– hostages held at gunpoint while the men attempted to rob the bank. If it hadn’t been for the Shadowhunter, things would have turned out much worse than they did.”_  
  
The screen cuts to the robbers, handcuffed and stuffed into the back of the police vehicles, looking every bit angry and in pain. It pans back to the reporter, and she goes on to ask the witnesses what they’d experienced. They describe different levels of fear, and relief later when they’d been saved by the vigilante.  
  
_“They shot at him,”_  one of the witnesses, a teenage boy, tells her,  _“I don’t know if he was injured badly or not…. But I hope he’s okay.”_  
  
Simon turns to Isabelle, who’s typing away at her phone. She then slides it into her pocket, getting up.  
  
“I’m sorry Simon, but I have to go,” she shoots him an apologetic smile. Simon frowns back in confusion.  
  
“What? Why?”  
  
“Um – Alec needs me to help him with something. I’ll call you tomorrow!”  
  
“But – “  
  
Isabelle slips her shoes on and shuts the front door behind her, Simon wondering what the hell just happened. He’s certain that he remembers Izzy telling him that Alec and Magnus had gone out tonight, but he doesn’t see why she would lie to him, so he shakes his head and lifts his guitar off the ground as commercials play in the background.

  
\------

  
“Hey!” Simon leaps down the steps of the liberal arts building, to where Jace is leaning against one of the pillars. He’s just finished a music class – he’s majoring in Accounting per his mother’s wishes, but minoring in Music Performance – and Clary’s about to finish one of her art classes in a few minutes. “Are you waiting for Clary?”  
  
“I guess,” Jace says, looking Simon over. “Nice shirt, by the way.”  
  
Simon glances down at his shirt, emblazoned with ‘Han Shot First’. “Is that sarcasm?”  
  
“Nah,” Jace replies, an odd smile on his face. He’s twisting a silver ring on his finger, one that Simon’s never seen before, despite his embarrassing fixation on Jace's hands. He slips his hands into his pockets before Simon can get a good look at it.  
  
Simon leans against the pillar next to Jace, trying his hardest not to be awkward around him the way he is sometimes when they’re alone. He can’t easily explain his relationship with Jace; when they’d first been introduced to one another, they hadn’t gotten along at all. Jace had found Simon annoying, and Simon had believed him to be an asshole. Only after they’d gotten to truly know each other had they softened up.  
  
Now Simon knows that behind Jace’s tough demeanor, he's extremely caring and protective and kind, quick to jump to a person's aid without even being told. Simon has never met someone so complex before; he knows a lot of Jace's cold and detached front comes from being in the system before the Lightwoods had adopted him, and that he's still got a lot of walls built to protect himself.  
  
But the fact that Simon had managed to squeeze through a few of them and build quite a good — and admittedly strange — relationship with Jace has him happy and a bit relieved. In the past he'd thought Jace would always find him a nuisance, but now they could almost be considered best friends, though Simon's pretty sure Jace would choke before using that term to describe Simon.  
  
Simon’s also developed a crush along the way, but he’s nowhere at fault. It was practically unavoidable. Jace is hard edges and piercing stares, but also soft, golden hair, pressing touches and deep, understanding eyes. He feels and is aware more than he lets on. His lips are practically stuck in a perpetual pout, and Simon aches to feel them.  
  
“Hey guys!” Clary’s voice pulls Simon out of his thoughts as she approaches them with a smile. Her sketchbook is tucked away under her arm, and she has dried paint on her fingers – typical Clary Fray.  
  
“You too?” Jace asks, raising his eyebrows at Clary’s shirt, which has a picture of a younger Princess Leia on it. Simon walks over to her and throws an arm around her shoulder.  
  
“We purposefully matched this morning.”  
  
“I can tell,” Jace pulls his phone out and snaps a quick picture of them, “I’m sending this to Izzy.”  
  
“Tell her I say hi!”  
  
Jace pushes himself off the pillar and steps forward, limping slightly. A pained look crosses his face but is gone before Simon can fully comprehend it.  
  
“Are you alright?” Clary asks in concern. Jace brushes her off with a wave of his hand.  
  
“I banged my leg this morning, it’s nothing.”  
  
Simon furrows his eyebrows. He has a feeling that there’s a lot more to that story than Jace is letting on, what with how he hasn’t met their eyes, but Clary changes the subject.  
  
“So, guys,” she starts, “Izzy and I are going ice skating with Aline and Maia later, can you come with?”  
  
“I can’t,” Simon answers, patting Clary’s shoulder solemnly, “I have to work tonight.”  
  
“Jace?”  
  
“Book club.” Jace answers hurriedly. Simon and Clary both blink at him.  
  
“You read?” They ask at the same time. Jace purses his pretty lips and glares at them both.  
  
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear the disbelief in your voices.”  
  
“I’m sorry!” Clary laughs, “I just never took you for the book club type.”  
  
“It’s probably an excuse,” Simon jokes, but Jace’s frown deepens at that, “he’s covering up the fact that he’s in a fight club or something.”  
  
“First rule of Fight Club is, you don’t talk about Fight Club,” Jace recites in monotone. “Now, are we getting lunch or not?”  
  
“Yes, we are, wanna come?” Clary directs at Simon and he can only think, they planned this without me? But then he remembers that she and Jace are closer to each other than Jace and Simon are, so of course they would, it’s not even a big deal, it’s just lunch.  
  
“I have another class in a few minutes,” he tells them, shrugging, and thinks, wouldn’t want to third-wheel your bonding time.  
  
Clary tells him that they’ll catch up later, and she and Jace leave Simon standing in front of the liberal arts building.

-

A little later that day at work, during Simon's break, he opens snapchat while bored and goes through a few people's stories. Clary and Isabelle's are full of pictures of them and the girls, and videos of them laughing and skating together, toppling over every few minutes. He smiles at them, and goes to click on Jace's. 

  
There's a picture from around 8 AM of his coffee cup, the name 'Jason' written on it, and he's captioned it  _'Maia strikes again'_. The next picture is from this morning, the one he'd taken of Simon and Clary and had said he’d send to Isabelle. Simon can't help but notice that he's front and center in the picture; his arm around Clary, who's off to the side and laughing at the camera. For some reason, it's obvious that he's the subject of the photo and Simon’s not sure it even means anything but it makes him feel good. The caption is  _'look at these geeks'_. Simon bites his lip to try and stop his ear-splitting grin, but fails.  
  
-

By the time Simon gets off work, it's half past twelve. He's absolutely exhausted, and wants nothing more than to bury himself under the covers and go straight to sleep.  
  
He doesn't usually get out this late, so the streets are more quiet than usual. His apartment isn't very far from his place of work, but Simon still wishes he had gotten out early enough to catch one of the late busses, because walking down the streets at this hour never fails to creep him out. He makes a last second decision and decides to cut through a short cut that he only ever goes through in the mornings. The streets are much more abandoned there, but it’s a faster route to his place, so he takes a chance.  
  
Simon adjusts the strap of his messenger bag, tightening his grip, and quickens his steps. He jumps as a trash can bangs in the alleyway behind him, a stray cat zipping past, and then jumps again as his phone vibrates in his pocket.   
  
“ _Chill,_ ” he whispers to himself, letting out a deep breath, and pulls out his phone. It’s a text from Clary, reading: ‘ **it’s late are you still at work?’**  
  
**_‘on my way back now, I’ll be there in a few’_** , he answers.  
  
**‘be careful okay!!!’**  
  
Simon huffs out a laugh at that, nodding to himself, and starts to type back a response when he’s suddenly shoved unceremoniously into the brick wall of the building he’s walking past, a gasp escaping his lips. His phone slips out of his fingers and crashes to the sidewalk by his feet, and Simon can’t see it, but he can practically hear the screen cracking. The rough hand of the man standing in front of him grips his shoulder, the bricks digging into his back, and he sees the glint of a knife in the guy’s other hand.   
  
“Why, hello there,” the man says slyly, a vicious grin on his face, “what’s a pretty boy like you doing out this late?”  
  
Simon is visibly shaking; he knows the man can feel it, and his heart pounds away so loudly that it’s a wonder the whole block can’t hear it. Fear claws at him and he’s unable to speak for a moment. He hadn’t even heard the man coming.  
  
“Alright, let’s cut to the chase. Your bag and your wallet, now.” The smile slips off the man’s face, curling into a sneer, and he presses the knife against Simon’s abdomen, the metal cold through his shirt.  
  
“W-wait, please,” Simon stutters, raising his shaking hands. His laptop is in his messenger bag, and everything he’s done for the past few years is on it. All his essays and projects and countless other invaluable files he can’t afford to lose. His eyes dart up and down the street, but there’s no one in sight. He curses himself for taking the stupid short cut.  _What an idiot,_ he internally screams at himself,  _this guy will probably murder you and get away with it._  
  
Impatient, the man yanks Simon’s messenger bag off his shoulder, pulling it away from him and growling. “I said, your wallet!”  
  
“No, please, all my work is in there!” Simon pleads. He knows that the man couldn’t give less of a shit about Simon’s woes, but he can’t see a single way out of this, and he’s panicking about his laptop despite the fact that the guy is perfectly capable of shanking Simon and skipping off without a care in the world.  
  
“I don’t give a rat’s ass, you little b – “   
  
The man abruptly stops speaking, and Simon’s afraid he’s going to just murder him to make things easier for himself, when a voice cuts through them both:  
  
“Are you returning that, or am I going to have to make you?”  
  
Simon slides back against the wall, turning to look at the person standing a few feet away from them; dressed in leather, standing assuredly, staring the thief down. Simon’s attacker scrambles back for a second, and thrusts his arm out in front of him, brandishing his knife.  
  
“What are you going to do about it?” He snarls, and Simon can hear the uncertainty in his voice despite clearly trying his hardest to sound confident. All Simon can do, though, is stare at the other man. His guardian angel.  
  
Before Simon can even blink, he’s moved in a flash. The knife flies out of the thug’s grip, and the vigilante twists, a loud snap sounding through the air. The thief howls in pain; Simon’s pretty sure that the Shadowhunter has just broken his wrist.   
  
“Must I repeat myself?” He asks, voice calm yet threatening all at once.   
  
The attacker drops Simon’s messenger bag and, the minute the grip on him loosens, jerks his arm away from the vigilante and high tails it down the street, cradling his wrist. The Shadowhunter and Simon both watch him go.  
  
“Holy shit.” Simon whispers, mind racing. Everything had happened so fast, and he suddenly feels overwhelmed, shaken and in disbelief. He just knows he’s glad to be alive, and that his laptop is untouched.   
  
“Yours, I presume,” the Shadowhunter holds Simon’s bag out at him, amusement in his voice, no doubt at Simon’s awe-struck expression.   
  
“T-thank you,” Simon gasps, taking his bag and cradling it in his arms. He remembers his phone, and turns, reaching down to pick it up from where it’s faced down on the ground. His heart drops at the large, spider-webbed crack on his screen. It still turns on and works fine, but it’s going to be a pain to use and he won’t be able to afford fix it for a while.  
  
“Aw, man,” Simon mumbles, “just my luck.” He turns back to the vigilante, who’s been watching him, head cocked slightly. He straightens as Simon thanks him again. “You saved my life and I… shit, this is crazy, I can’t believe this is happening. Thank you.”  
  
Clary is going to explode when he tells her about this.  
  
“Will you be alright?” He asks, and there’s genuine concern in his voice. Simon nods, and looks the man over. He’s got a mask covering most of his face, save for his mouth and chin. He’s got blond, windswept hair, and a very pretty mouth. Simon frowns.   
  
Wait.  
  
“You should get going, it’s not safe here.”   
  
Simon knows that voice.  
  
“Are you sure you’re alright?” He asks again in response to Simon gaping at him.  
  
_“Jace?”_  Simon blurts, incredulous.   
  
The Shadowhunter freezes all over. They stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, before he finally speaks,   
  
“What?”  
  
“Jace!” Simon exclaims. “Holy shit! What the hell are you doing?” His mind is racing a mile a minute, and he sees the similarities instantly: His hair. His mouth. The way he’s built. Hell, his voice practically confirms it all. “How the hell are you the Shadowhunter?!”  
  
“What are you talking about?” He asks, but there’s an edge to his voice and Simon steps closer to him.  
  
“It  _is_  you, I’m not crazy,” he tells him, “or maybe I am, because – “   
  
The vigilante curses under his breath, then yanks Simon’s arm and drags him into the alleyway closest to them. For a wild second, Simon’s afraid he’s got it all wrong, but he shakes the uncertainty out of his system. This is, without a doubt, his Jace Wayland.   
  
The man himself confirms it when he pushes Simon up against the wall and whips his mask off.  
  
“Oh. My God.” Simon gasps. Jace stares back at him, hard eyes glaring into his.  
  
“Simon – “  
  
“I can’t believe this. Please tell me I’m dreaming.”  
  
“Simon, will you shut up for one second?”  
  
“But – I don’t get it! I don’t understand how – “   
  
Simon’s cut off by his phone ringing. The Star Wars theme plays loudly, gleefully, and it doesn’t fit the mood at all. They both stare at Simon’s phone, at the picture of Clary smiling at the camera from behind Simon’s cracked screen. Simon doesn’t answer it – he can’t answer it. He has too much going on in his head to clearly talk to Clary right now.  
  
“You need to get home,” Jace tells him once Simon’s stuffed his phone into his back pocket.  
  
“Jace. I don’t – “  
  
“Simon.” Jace says through gritted teeth. “Just. Go.”   
  
Simon has no idea what to do, but he’s starting to fear the hard edge in Jace’s voice, so he backs out of the alleyway slowly, nodding. “You’re going to have to explain all of this to me.”  
  
“I don’t have to explain anything to you,” Jace snaps; then steps forward, reaches towards him unexpectedly and grips his arm. “Don’t tell anyone about this Simon, especially not Clary. I’m serious.”  
  
“Okay! I know!” Simon shakes his head in disbelief, arm tightening around his bag. He stands for a second and stares at Jace, but then turns and rushes out of the alley before Jace really lets him have it. When he turns back to look once more, Jace is gone.  
  
Simon all but runs home, and drops his keys twice before finally managing to unlock his apartment door. He closes the door and sags against it, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He closes his eyes and thinks about the absurdity of the situation; of Jace, being Brooklyn’s beloved savior. Simon has no idea how that’s possible, and no matter how deep he thinks into it, he can’t find any explanation as to how Jace can do what the Shadowhunter can allegedly do. How Jace can move as fast as he’d moved earlier.  
  
“Simon?” Clary’s voice cuts through his thoughts. He opens his eyes to find her surging towards him. “Hey, what happened? Why didn’t you answer my call? Are you okay?”  
  
“Yeah, totally!” Simon pushes away from the door, smiling forcibly at Clary. “It’s just, I dropped my phone and the screen cracked and then it died, I’m sorry.” He shows her his cracked screen, and she shakes her head sadly at him.  
  
“Oh, that sucks.” She reaches out to take it when Simon shoves it into his bag. She squints up at him, lips turned down. “Simon, for real, what’s going on? You look like something’s happened to you.”  
  
“Nothing, I swear! It’s just – I just, I remembered that I have a paper due tomorrow? And I haven’t proofread it yet! So, I need to get that done, and then try to get some sleep in before class, because I’m going to be exhausted if I don’t and, you know,” Simon’s rambling. He knows it, and Clary knows it, but he suddenly realizes how exhausted he is and he must look it because Clary nods at him, seemingly deciding to drop the subject.  
  
“Alright, I’m going to bed.” She hugs him, and he leans into her, sighing into her hair. “But if you need anything, just knock, okay?” Simon nods. “Goodnight.”  
  
“See ya.” He smiles tiredly at her and watches her retreat into her room, shutting the door behind her. Simon stands in their living room for a hot second, before dragging himself into his own room and closing the door tightly. He tosses his messenger bag to the ground, collapses into his bed, and groans into the pillow.  
  
So, not only is Jace totally awesome and hot, but he’s also a vigilante who dresses in tight leather and goes around saving distressed New Yorkers. Simon wants to scream.  
  
He barely gets any sleep that night.

  
\------

  
Simon is late to his first class the next morning, and ends up sleeping through it. He’d tossed and turned all night before he’d decided to pull his laptop out and read every article he could find on the Shadowhunter. The more he read, about the hero’s strengths and fighting skills and courage from witnesses, the more he was sure he’d dreamt up the entire scenario, because he still couldn’t believe that the man was Jace.  
  
He’d fallen asleep sometime after five, and with only three hours of sleep under his belt, his professor’s monotone drawl pulls him right back under. After the class, he goes back to his apartment to get in a few more hours of sleep before one of his friends inevitable drags him out. He wakes ten minutes before 1 PM to a text from Clary telling him to meet up with her at the coffee shop on campus. The thought of a hot cup of coffee is the only thing that gets Simon to walk the distance.  
  
The minute he’s stepped into the café, he catches sight of Clary waving her hand at him to get his attention, and he weaves through the tables to reach her. She’s sitting with Isabelle, and Alec, who’s more focused on his phone than he is on the others at the table.  
  
“You look like you’ve died,” Izzy comments, and Simon groans in response, dropping down next to Clary.  
  
“I feel like I’ve died,” he grumbles, recalling how close he was to dying last night.  
  
Simon looks up from the table they’re sitting at to find Alec watching him silently. A chill runs through him and he focuses instead on Clary’s bright hair, nervously pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Simon doesn’t know Alec very well. He’s positive that Alec only bares with them because they’re Jace and Izzy’s friends. But Alec gives off the air of a man who knows more than he lets on; much more, and it always makes Simon feel uneasy because he knows that if anyone could figure out all his deepest and darkest secrets, it would be Alec, who he barely knows anything about in return.  
  
“Jace is getting our drinks, wanna order?” Izzy asks him. Simon’s about to complain about having to get up and walk the few feet to the counter when Jace approaches them, coffees in hand in a carrier that he sets down at the table.  
  
“No need,” Jace says, setting a cup down in front of him. “Hey, Simon,” he greets, voice surprisingly soft, a clear contrast from how he’d snapped at Simon last night. Simon had expected Jace to give him the cold shoulder, or at least glare daggers into him, but instead he’s sitting next to Isabelle and acting no differently. Simon, yet again, questions everything.  
  
“Hi.” Simon responds blandly. Isabelle and Clary have begun discussing something, and Simon takes a sip of his coffee, warmth immediately spreading through him. He can sense the caffeine working on him instantly. He’s pleasantly surprised at the fact that Jace has gotten his coffee down perfectly, exactly the way Simon always takes it, and he wonders how.  
  
Jace catches his eye and they both stare at each other. Simon knows they’re both thinking about the same thing: last night.  
  
“Jesus fucking Christ.” Alec swears under his breath, and Jace tears his gaze away from Simon to squint disapprovingly at him.  
  
“Hey losers,” a voice greets cheerfully. Maia puts a hand on their table, leaning onto it, and grins at them. She’s got her apron on, a doodle of a smiling mug on it.  
  
“And here I was having a good morning.” Jace wrinkles his nose at her and she shoots him a look, shaking her curls.  
  
“I’m not here to waste my time on you,” she tells him. “Clary, I have the notes from the last lecture you missed, if you want them.”  
  
“Oh, that’d be great, thanks!” Clary gets up and follows Maia past the tables and into the back room, where the employees keep their things. The second Clary disappears behind the door, all eyes turn to Simon. He looks back at them, his own eyes widening.  
  
“What? Why are you guys staring at me like that?” He asks nervously.  
  
“You know.” Isabelle states. For a moment, Simon has no idea what they’re talking about.  
  
“I don’t.” Simon responds hesitantly.  
  
“You know about Jace.” Alec clears up.  
  
“ _You_  know about Jace?” Simon hisses, leaning in and dropping his voice to a whisper, “That he’s the…  _the Shadowhunter_?”  
  
Alec snorts. “Of course we know about Jace, we’re his siblings.”  
  
“I am literally right here,” Jace grunts into his coffee, “stop talking about me as if I can’t hear you.”  
  
They all ignore him.  
  
“But how is he – “  
  
Alec stops him. “That’s not the point.”  
  
“Jace told us about what happened last night,” Izzy continues, “Have you told anyone?”  
  
“Of course not!” Simon’s insulted. “You think I can’t keep a secret?”  
  
“It’s not that,” Isabelle sighs, “It’s just… Jace wouldn’t listen to us when he started this thing of his, even though it could get him… killed.” Jace rolls his eyes at that. “It’s dangerous, we all know that, and we just want to make sure his identity stays private.”  
  
Simon nods at them. He’d never try to put Jace in any danger whatsoever. “I get that. His secret stays with me, I promise.”  
  
“Not even Clary,” Alec presses, narrowing his eyes at Simon, who purses his lips.  
  
“Yeah, I get it. Not even Clary.” He pauses for a second. “Though I don’t understand what the big deal would be if she – “  
  
“Simon!”  
  
“Joking!” He lifts his hands up in surrender. Jace just shakes his head, staring down at his cup, blond locks of hair falling into his face. Simon has the urge to reach out and brush them away but that would be weird, not to mention it would also make things very awkward.  
  
Clary returns to their table shortly, a spiral notebook in hand. “Hope you guys didn’t miss me too bad,” she jokes, sitting.  
  
“Oh, it was torture without you here,” Jace quips, and Clary kicks him lightly under the table, smiling. She reaches out and delicately pushes Jace’s hair behind his ear and Simon’s entire body seems to heat up considerably.  
  
“Get a room,” Izzy calls out jokingly and they all laugh lightly at the joke, Jace snorting and shooting Isabelle a look. No one takes it seriously but Simon. His grip on his own cup tightens and he has to fight the urge to make up an excuse to bail.  
  
“I have to make a call,” he blurts, giving in, and leaves before any of them can respond.  
  
Simon all but collapses on the bench outside the café, instantly cursing himself for running off like that. He buries his face in his hands, wondering how the hell he’s going to be able to deal with Clary and Jace when they inevitably start dating when he can’t even take them merely touching without almost bursting into flames.  
  
He sits there for a few minutes, phone in hand for no discernable reason, wondering why he’s such an embarrassment, until he hears the door to the café swing open and closed. Simon shifts slightly, a carefully crafted excuse on the tip of his tongue, to see Alec step up to him.  
  
“You know,” Alec starts, “at first I thought it was Clary. But now I’m positive it’s Jace.”  
  
“What are you talking about?” Simon questions weakly, despite the fact that he already knows exactly what Alec is talking about.  
  
“You have feelings for Jace.” Alec states it loud and clear, and Simon begs the earth to open up and swallow him right there.  
  
“No I – “  
  
“Don’t try denying it Simon, we both know I’m right.”  
  
“How do you…” Simon doesn’t finish the sentence.  
  
“I’m observant.” Alec shrugs offhandedly, as if they’re merely discussing how Alec had guessed the weather forecast.  
  
“… Alright,” Simon drags out, “is this the part where you tell me to back off, that Jace is your brother and you’ll kill me with your bare hands if I don’t get over it?”  
  
Alec’s eyebrows rise in surprise, and he almost laughs. “I’m not Jace’s parent. I actually don’t really care – “  
  
“Oh, fantastic, so you’re going to hold this over my head until you can use it against me?” Simon glares at him. He and Alec have never been friends, per say, but he’d never thought that Alec would stoop as low as to blackmail Simon.  
  
“No,” Alec frowns at him, shaking his head slowly, as if he’s miffed that Simon would accuse him of such a thing. Which – he probably is. He pulls his phone out of his back pocket, checks it, and meets Simon’s eyes. “Just don’t mess things up. I have to go.” He slides his phone back in his pocket and, with one more calculated and cryptic look towards Simon, turns and walks away.  
  
Simon yells after him, “What the hell is that supposed to mean!” Alec simply waves a hand in response and turns the corner, disappearing from sight like the enigma he is.

  
\------

  
"How do you do it?"  
  
Simon's finally got Jace cornered in the library one evening, while he’s skimming through the books on the shelves. He told Simon he was looking for a certain book for a class but Simon's positive it's an excuse for Jace to ignore him for as long as possible. He’s wearing a dark sweater that not only brings out his eyes but makes him look warm and comfortable, and Simon ignores the fuzzy feeling in his chest to focus on the matter at hand.   
  
"Do what?" He mumbles, pulling one of the books out and flipping through it before shoving it back in its place.  
  
"Jace, I'm serious," Simon huffs, "how did you get all those crazy powers?" He gasps suddenly.   
  
"Are you an alien?"  
  
"Seriously?" Jace finally diverts all his attention to Simon. "I'm not an alien, Simon, don't be ridiculous. And they're not powers, they're just... Abilities."  
  
"Well, how do you have them?"  
  
Simon stares Jace down and watches as multiple expressions flash across his face. Frustration, annoyance, hesitation, and finally, defeat.  
  
"There's no point in arguing with you," Jace states, pressing his palm against his forehead and closing his eyes. "I'll tell you. But this stays between us."  
  
"You know, you don't have to keep reminding me. It’s not like I'm going to forget if you don't and expose you to the entire world."  
  
Jace, yet again, ignores him and drags him over to one of the tables, one specifically in the corner next to a window. It's gotten quite late, and there are only a few people scattered around the floor of the library they're on. No one within earshot. Simon sits across from Jace, whose eyes are latched onto his own hands, where he's twisting a silver ring on his finger, the one that Simon had seen him wearing a while back, that day outside the liberal arts building.  
  
"You know that I was adopted." Jace begins. Simon nods, and doesn't press him; if this is how Jace is starting, it must be something hard for him to share.  
  
"My father was… a scientist. And for years, he made me the subject of his studies.”  
  
“What kind of scientist?” Simon asks, as he’s suddenly not sure he wants Jace to elaborate on what he meant by being the subject.   
  
“He claimed to be a geneticist, but I know it was much broader than that.” Jace has a faraway look in his eyes. “He believed that he could create ‘superior beings’ by modifying their genes, and used his own fucking child as a lab rat.” He suddenly looks furious, and Simon would call his bluff, tell him to stop joking but strangely enough, he believes Jace. It’s hard for him not to, what with the anger in his eyes. It’s already been established that super-humans exist; they’re rare, but out there. Simon has heard of those people who’ve attempted to create them, but they’re far and few between, as it’s extremely illegal and unethical. He’d never have imagined that Jace would have gone through something like that.  
  
“I remember it being the most painful thing I've ever felt. Every week he’d inject me with something different.” Jace twists the ring off his finger and sets it atop the table. Simon can see the emblem on it – a W. “And… in a way, it worked. But I wasn’t as perfect, nor as strong as he wanted me to be, and he’d punish me relentlessly for that.”  
  
“Shit,” is all Simon can utter. Jace is laying himself bare for Simon and he stares back in shock. Jace always tells people that his parents had died in an accident, simple as that, and Simon can’t believe that he’s been carrying this around his entire life, and will continue to do so. Jace has never shown any bit of complex, emotional pain, or any pain whatsoever, and Simon’s stunned into silence.  
  
“Yeah, I know,” Jace laughs bitterly. “I pushed that part of me away, after everything. I hated myself and what I could do, because it always tied back to him. I tried to live as normally as possible after the Lightwoods adopted me, but as I grew older, it got harder. So, I taught myself to control it. And then one night, it ended up saving someone’s life.” A small smile pulls at his lips, and he places a hand over the ring. “It felt… amazing? For the first time, I realized that I wasn’t all bad. I could stop seeing what I can do as something completely negative and help people, and… when you learn that you can make a difference, there’s really no going back from there.”  
  
Simon feels a warmth in his chest. Hearing Jace talk so genuinely about himself, and how much he wants to help people makes Simon admire him much more than ever before. He reaches out and places his hand on top of Jace’s, whose eyes snap up to meet his. He doesn’t exactly know what to say in response to all that Jace has confided to him, but tries. “I’m sorry that you had to go through all of that. But I’m so happy something good’s come out of it and that you’ve embraced it. You’re an amazing person, Jace.”   
  
Jace’s smile widens at Simon’s words. His smile is genuine and beautiful, and Simon feels like a hand has reached inside him and squeezed his heart as tight as possible. He can sense himself falling harder for Jace in this very charged, intimate moment.  
  
He doesn’t want to pull Jace out of the positive state of mind he’s set himself in, but the question is itching away at him. “What happened to your father?”  
  
Jace sighs, looking back down at their hands. He doesn’t pull away. “He went to jail when I was ten. Got busted for tax fraud, of all things. He died in prison after two years or so. I’d been living with the Lightwoods for a while because they were fostering me but when they heard about his death, they legally adopted me.”  
  
“Do they know?”  
  
Jace shakes his head, scoffing. “Definitely not. Maryse and Robert don’t have a clue about what happened, what I do or how I do it. Only Alec and Izzy. Oh, and Magnus.”   
  
“Magnus?” Simon blinks in surprise at the mention of Alec’s boyfriend. “Why?”  
  
“He found out on his own. I still have no idea how, but Alec swore he never told him. Magnus is more observant than Alec, if you believe me.”  
  
“I do.” Simon admits. He’s met Magnus a handful of times, a few of them because he’s friends with Clary’s mother, surprisingly. Magnus has always struck him as timeless; someone with unmatched wit and knowledge, as cunning as ever. He and Alec are perfect for each other.  
  
“Also, I never would have chosen to wear all that leather,” Jace mutters as an afterthought.  
  
Simon laughs loudly at that, and a woman a few tables away shushes him. He bites back a large smile. “Oh man, of course.”   
  
Simon’s still very much surprised and pleased that Jace trusts him enough to have told him all this, something that only three other people in his life know. He feels special.   
  
Jace finally pulls away, slipping the ring into his pocket, and Simon mourns the loss of contact with him. He wants to reach out and hug Jace from across the table, but reluctantly stays put. Jace checks the watch on his wrist and pushes away from the table.  
  
“I should get going.”  
  
“Go do your thing, Super-Jace.”  
  
“Oh, God,” Jace groans, standing, “that was awful. No.”  
  
“Cut me some slack, I was distracted.” He simply grins at Jace.  
  
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jace tells him. He’s looking at Simon with an expression that can only be described as fond, and Simon’s heart flutters in response. With another quick smile, Jace turns and leaves. Simon watches him go, waves at him before the elevator doors slide shut, and then melts into his seat once he’s alone.  
  
He can’t do anything but think about all that Jace had told him for the rest of the night, later lying in bed with discarded books strewn around him. Simon tries to read a bit on genetic mutation, but then starts to think about the Spider-Man movies he's watched, and the science is boring and not really his thing, so he shuts his laptop and stares at the ceiling, wondering what Jace is doing, if he’s alright.  
  
_What if he’s getting pummeled by a bunch of thugs? What if someone’s trying to retaliate against him?_  
  
_What if he’s dead?_  
  
Simon reminds himself, for the fourth time in between thoughts, that Jace is capable of taking down anyone who tries him, but doubt gnaws at him and he feels uneasy. Is this how Alec and Izzy always feel, he wonders. Jace has no obligation to the city, to do what he does, yet still does it. Simon’s both charmed and exasperated.   
  
He grabs his phone off his bedside table, the time reading 2AM. He grumbles under his breath about breaking the habit of staying up for so long and texts Jace, though he’s aware that he might take a long time to answer.  
  
**2:04 AM – okay but sometimes I worry that you’ve gone off and gotten yourself killed.**  
  
He sends it and immediately cringes, but he can’t take it back and decides, who cares?  
  
**2:05 AM – that’s too sappy for you, isn’t it?**  
  
**2:05 AM – on second thought I don’t care**  
  
**2:05 AM – text me back so I know you haven’t been viciously murdered**  
  
Simon stares at the cracked screen of his phone for about a minute, and at the tiny grey ‘Delivered’ under his text bubbles. He finally switches it off and plugs it into the charger and ends up falling asleep because he’d been chanting  _‘he’s alright’_  in his head repeatedly.  
  
When he wakes the next morning, there are more texts from Jace than he’d expected. He starts to feel uneasy again until he opens them.  
  
**4:08 AM – aw that’s so cute lol**  
  
**5:25 AM – why are there so many criminals in new york what the actual fuck. do people here**  
**ever sleep???**  
  
**5:25 AM – seriously**  
  
**5:34 AM – I’m okay but this guy sure isn’t LMAO**  
  
**5:45 AM– stop staying up so late**  
  
**5:46 AM – in all honesty I’m fine. have not been viciously murdered. actually feeling more**  
**alive than ever. 10/10**  
  
**6:55 AM – why did I register for morning classes**  
  
Simon’s a bit bugged that there’s over an hour between the first two texts, knowing that that would have both irritated and flustered him to death if he’d been awake at the time, but Jace answered and he’s relieved. He didn’t poke as much fun at him as he thought he would, and he obviously tried to lighten the mood, and even seemed to care?  
  
Simon smiles at his phone longer than necessary.

  
\------

  
They somehow end up at the mall.  
  
It's kind of Izzy's fault — she has a date with some cute senior guy named Meliorn and she dragged Clary along, who dragged Simon along, who asked Jace if he wanted to come so he wouldn't have to stand around awkwardly as they ventured into Victoria's Secret like they always do when they force him to tag along. Jace had, surprisingly, agreed with little hesitation.  
  
When the girls inevitably enter the lingerie store after successfully finding Isabelle the perfect dress, Simon and Jace get sodas from the vending machine nearby and talk.  
  
“So, they call you the Shadowhunter because…”  
  
“ _Hunts out those who dwell in the shadows_ ,” Jace recites, making a face. “Some kid on Reddit posted that and it spread.”  
  
"You know who you remind me of? Daredevil."  
  
"The blind vigilante?" Jace raises an eyebrow, taking a sip of his coke, and Simon nods, waving his hand in dismissal.  
  
"Well. Without the whole blind part but, yeah! Awesome abilities and stuff."  
  
"What does that make you?"  
  
"Uh," Simon ponders the question for a second, "I don't know? Maybe I'm a Foggy Nelson." He shrugs, and Jace nods.  
  
"Makes sense, considering you found out about me accidentally."  
  
"Your costume sucks," Simon counters, "If your costume didn't suck, nobody would find out who you are."  
  
"It's not a costume!" Jace exclaims, insulted and defensive. Simon can't help but laugh at the expression on his face. Jace's glare melts and he smiles softly in Simon's direction, which makes him flush and fiddle with the bottle of his soda to distract himself. He looks away from Jace, taking a sip of his drink, and immediately chokes when he catches sight of someone walking hand in hand with a pretty woman. Someone by the name of Raphael Santiago.  
  
_"Fuck!"_  Simon hisses, leaping to the side of the vending machine, obscuring himself by it and Jace, who whips around to Simon, alarmed.  
  
"What? Is something wrong — "  
  
"My ex." Simon explains quickly. He and Raphael had dated for almost a year back when Simon had been a senior in high school. It had been great, but Simon was way in over his head and definitely not ready for something that serious back then, and they’d simply fallen apart. They'd broken up on good terms, yet Simon still can't help but get extremely nervous the – thankfully – few times he runs into Raphael, who seems to have his entire life together, from his studies to his wardrobe, while Simon's always in some sort of mess. Raphael's a good guy, but he also reminds Simon of everything wrong with himself, being as perfect as he is.  
  
"The super-hot Asian girl?" Jace raises his eyebrows in admiration, peering at the couple, and Simon's face reddens considerably. Despite being friends for two years, Simon hasn't mentioned a single thing about Raphael. Really, the only people who know about his ex are his family and Clary, and some friends from high school. He'd just never thought to mention it before, or found it important, but it's impossible to back out of it now.  
  
"No, the guy with her." He whispers, as they're both talking together and coming closer.  
  
"Oh," Jace's eyebrows rise even higher, but he doesn't comment on it beyond that. Simon doesn't know why, but he's grateful. "You should probably stop hiding if you're going for natural, because he'll spot you anyways."  
  
Simon wants to complain but Jace is right, so he crosses his arms and scoots closer to Jace and tries to act like he totally hasn't been spying on Raphael and his absolutely gorgeous girlfriend.  
  
"Simon!" Raphael finally spots him, sounds surprised to see him, and Simon has the urge to flee, but keeps himself rooted in spot. "Hi, how are you?"  
  
"Oh, hey Rapha," Simon greets, the nickname slipping out by habit. Raphael looks amused at that and he tries not to let it get to him. "I'm good, haven't seen you in a while."  
  
"Yeah, I was in France. Exchange program. What have you been up to?"  
  
Simon kind of wants to die. He knows Raphael is being polite by engaging in conversation with him but it feels like every time they have this forced-polite-talk, Simon's answer is always the same: Oh, just studying. You know.  
  
"Studies. Not much." He forcibly smiles at Raphael before noticing that Jace is outright glaring at him, and not the joking-glares that he gives Simon. This is a full-blown,  _I will end you_ , Jace Wayland glare. He's very confused and a little terrified.  
  
"I'm Camille Belcourt," the beautiful woman says, reaching out to shake Simon's hand. He complies, and she cocks her head, smiling, a devious glint in her eyes. "And you're Simon. Raphael has told me a lot about you."  
  
"Oh, uh." He has no idea how to respond to that, has no idea what Raphael's been saying about him, but doesn't need to because she's moved on to Jace, eyeing him like he's a full course meal. (Which he definitely is, Simon thinks fleetingly, before chastising himself to focus on the issue at hand.)  
  
"And you are?"  
  
Jace finally stops glaring at Raphael long enough to answer her. "Jace," he answers shortly, "Simon's friend."  
  
"Friend," Raphael comments with skepticism in his tone, studying Jace, and Simon has never hated him, not really, but he does right now.  
  
Of course, Clary comes to save the day, as she always does. She exits the store with Isabelle, holding a bag and laughing at something Izzy has said, when she catches sight of Raphael.  
  
"Raphael!" She says in surprise, shooting Simon a look of confusion. He simply shoots her a look of desperation in response.  
  
"Clarissa," Raphael smiles politely, "Nice seeing you."  
  
"Thanks," She's returning Raphael's polite smile, clearly forced, and turns back to Simon as if never having seen him. "Ready to go? Izzy and I are done."  
  
"Yeah, definitely." Simon bursts, unable to keep the relief out of his voice. Raphael simply nods, a hand on Camille's back.  
  
"It was great running into you," He says, before walking away with Camille, who turns slightly to shoot Jace a smirk. He doesn't even see it, too busy glaring at Raphael's back.  
  
"He was cute, who is he?" Isabelle asks once they’re out of sight.  
  
"Friend from high school," Simon answers at the same time Clary says, "Simon's ex-boyfriend."  
  
"Explains the atmosphere." Izzy mutters, looking amused. Simon feels like everyone's amused by his terrible fate, and it sucks.   
  
"He seems like an asshole." Jace simply says. Simon sighs.  
  
"He's not that bad," he tells Jace honestly, because even if Raphael worsens his anxiety, makes him feel like a nervous wreck half the time, he's still not a bad person. He has no idea why Jace has chosen to hate him on impulse; he's just glad to get out of there. 

  
\------

  
Simon spends the weekend at his mother’s place. His older sister Rebecca comes to visit from New Jersey and Elaine takes the chance to grill them the way she usually does. Are you studying well? Getting good grades? Enough sleep? Making sure to eat kosher? Staying out of trouble? Simon and Rebecca roll their eyes but smile warmly at their mother and give her all the answers she wants to hear.  
  
Rebecca beats Simon at the video games they play, and he tries not to be too bitter about it. Elaine coddles them and complains about not seeing them enough and, Sunday morning, sees them off with containers full of home cooked food and a thousand kisses.  
  
Sunday evening, Simon goes grocery shopping with Clary, as they’ve been leaving it off for the past month and have made quite a dent in Elaine’s food. She's pushing the cart and hopping onto the bottom bar every few seconds, and Simon stops her and pushes instead because the lady at the end of the aisle is giving them dirty looks.  
  
"What's her problem?" Clary mumbles, brushing her hair out of her face as they stroll into the next aisle, before getting distracted by a box of strawberry pop tarts.  
  
"Oh, hey," Simon speaks up, suddenly remembering, "I didn't get a chance to read your article." With everything that had happened, especially with the Shadowhunter himself, Simon had ironically forgotten about it.  
  
"I'm kinda hurt! You didn't even pick up the magazine from the library!" Clary feigns offense, but then tosses the box into their cart and pulls out her phone, accessing the college app and pulling up their e-magazine for last month. "It's just all that interesting stuff I collected over time and found online, you know."  
  
Simon takes her phone, reading through her article while following her slowly as she continues shopping. The article is meticulously worded, and there's a plethora of sources and information on the people he's helped, criminals he's stopped, and on his abilities, but nothing new that Simon doesn't already know. The article, overall, achieves what Clary had been aiming for and Simon feels guilty again for having forgotten all about it before.  
  
"What do you really think about this guy?" Simon hands back her phone as she's trying to decide from all the different types of sliced bread. They all taste the same anyway, Simon thinks. Clary shrugs.  
  
"I don't know. I guess the more time goes by, the more I feel detached from him. I can research all I want, but I'll never truly know what the man under that mask thinks, or feels, or why he does what he does."  
  
Simon's taken aback; he'd thought Clary would continue to wax poetic about the vigilante (which is... Sort of what he'd wanted to hear) but she's proved him very wrong.   
  
"Wow," he blurts, "I — I guess I get what you mean." Simon had never cared much about the Shadowhunter before he'd known who he was. It had only been after he'd discovered him to be Jace, that he'd stopped and given the whole thing an in-depth analysis. He knows what Jace's motives are and why he does what he does, but Clary doesn't, and she can't relate to him at all. "Not knowing who the person you're looking up to is and what they really believe changes things."  
  
"I'm pretty sure he's sincere but I just wish I knew more about the guy. I wanna know what motivates him to do what he does, you know?"  
  
Simon trails after her, hesitating. "I think he's a great person." He ends up saying, and nothing else. But it’s the truth; he admires the persona Jace hides behind, but he admires Jace himself the most.  
  
"That much is obvious," Clary rolls her eyes at him, "why the sudden interest? You never gave him the time before."  
  
"I just — I don't know," Simon laughs nervously, and hopes he doesn't start rambling like he usually does, "I was just wondering about your opinion, I guess." He scrambles to change the subject but, because Jace is on his mind, it doesn't go far.  
  
"Hey, when are you gonna ask Jace out?" Simon lets out, and then kind of wants to die because his brain-to-mouth filter is awful sometimes and this is one of those times. “Don’t you think you’ve danced around each other enough?”  
  
"What?" Clary asks, laughing suddenly. Simon's glad he's gotten the Shadowhunter off her mind but he's not sure what her reaction to his question means. He'd expected her to blush and mumble something to get him to leave it alone like she's always done when Simon asks about her crushes. "Why on Earth would I ask Jace out?"  
  
"Because you.... Like him?" Simon says, sounding both like it’s obvious and like it's phrased as a question. "You've been into him since you first met him, Clary."  
  
"Oh my God, Simon." Clary stops in the middle of the aisle, shaking her head at him like he's said the most ridiculous thing in the world. "I did like him. But I don't anymore. I haven't for like,  _months_. Where have you been?"  
  
"I... What?" Simon's convinced his brain's short circuited.  
  
"That ship's sailed, Lewis, you can't even see it on the horizon. Not even with a super expensive pair of binoculars."  
  
"Why didn't you tell me?"  
  
"You never asked," she simply answers, "and I completely forgot about it. Jace is a great guy, and he's extremely good looking, but we're just friends."  
  
"He doesn't like you? I'm pretty sure he likes you, Clary."  
  
Simon wants to jump for joy at what Clary has told him. He's still comprehending it, and sort of can't believe it, but Clary isn't into Jace and it's a complete surprise to him.  
  
"Uh, no." She puts a hand up, as if to stop him. "It's just a joke between us, and Isabelle. I think he's interested in Maia? Or maybe he's still hung up on his ex Kaelie, but I doubt it. Maybe he's just not looking for anything right now."  
  
Simon tries to ignore the part about Maia — he's not touching any assumptions with a ten-foot pole. He realizes that all those months of worrying about Clary-and-Jace had been for nothing, and wants to punch himself in the face. If only he'd asked her before.  
  
"I'm an idiot. And a terrible friend." Simon groans, hanging his head in shame. He hasn’t been keeping up with Clary as much as he's wanted to, thanks to all the work and the overwhelming events he's experienced.  
  
"We've all been busy," Clary merely says, patting him on the shoulder. "And now I know that you didn't tell me about  _your_  crush on Jace because you thought I liked him. That's so thoughtful, Simon."  
  
Simon blinks. Then moves away from Clary. "What."  
  
"We've been best friends since we were kids, Simon, I know you better than anyone. I see the way you look at him.” She gives him a reassuring look, but he doesn’t feel reassured in the slightest. “At first I was under the impression that you didn't want to tell me, and I was waiting for you to, but now I know why you never did."  
  
Simon is having one hell of an internal struggle, aside from the shitty way he's feeling, knowing that he made Clary think he didn't trust her. He wants nothing more than to deny it, laugh it off, tell Clary she's imagining things, but he also wants to admit it and get it all over with, what with how he now knows Clary isn't emotionally compromised in the Jace department. Unsurprisingly, the latter wins. He sighs and crosses his arms defensively. "Is it that obvious?"  
  
"Would you believe me if I said no?"  
  
Simon wants to lie on the cold, hard floor and never get up.  
  
"Just to me. And Alec. And Izzy."  
  
"What? What the hell? How?" Simon knows that Alec knows about his feelings, and probably a lot more if he's being honest, but Izzy?  
  
"Don't worry, Jace has no idea. He's bad with feelings and all that stuff." She rolls her eyes fondly and Simon wants to jump to his defense, tell her that Jace has had a hard past and is trying, but Clary hadn't meant it in a rude way, nor does she know anything about that. He should be more concerned with how both of Jace's siblings know, but he can't be bothered to think anymore. He's tired, he trusts them, and he wants to lie down for a year.  
  
"I'd love to pull a Flash and just speed out of here."  
  
"You can try to pull a Flash and go get us a gallon of milk." Clary places her hands on her hips and grins at him. He can tell she's changing the subject because she knows how it's too much for him right now, and he loves her.  
  
"Yes, ma'am," he doesn't need to be told twice, and takes the exit she's given him.

  
\------ 

  
They’re given a week off to study before their exams, and Simon does good with the time. He dives into his books and notes until the only thing he can see is printed paragraphs.   
  
Clary had gone to study with Isabelle and spend the night, so Simon has the place to himself. It's gotten late – almost three in the morning, to be exact – but he's wide awake, and doesn’t have classes for the next week. He's migrated from his room to the kitchen, back to his room, and finally, to the living room floor where he's lying on his back with a book held above him.  
  
His week had been a good one; he'd gotten two essays back with high grades, was complimented by a classmate on his 'stellar presentation', and his manager calmed down long enough to praise his work ethic — Simon didn't bother telling her that he'd quit in a heartbeat if he wasn't just another broke college student.  
  
So, Simon's in a pretty good mood and his studying is going very well, and the apartment is quiet save for the low sounds from the TV.  
  
Which is why he almost has a heart attack when a sharp knock comes from the living room window, where the fire escape is.  
  
Simon wonders if someone's trying to rob them, but common sense kicks in and tells him that if he were getting robbed, they wouldn't be polite enough to knock. They'd just shimmy the window open or break it in or something. He gingerly gets himself off the floor and creeps towards the window, peering outside of it. Someone's leaning against it, and at the sight of uncharacteristically messy blond hair, Simon finally breathes and unlocks it, reaching over and sliding it open.  
  
"Jace, you know you can just take the door. Or is this some vigilante thing you're doing now —"  
  
"I don’t —" Jace loses his hold on the window and practically falls into his apartment. He would have hit the floor, hard, if Simon hadn't caught him quickly. He helps him stand, but Jace seems dizzy and unbalanced. He furrows his eyebrows, alarmed.  
  
"Shit, are you okay?"  
  
Jace shakes his head, eyes fluttering shut. He has his leather jacket under his arm and lets it fall to the ground, his other hand pressed against his side, and Simon realizes that he's bleeding.  
  
"Oh my God," he gasps, and leads Jace to the couch, where he immediately collapses, then shifts in pain, cursing under his breath. "What happened?"  
  
"I got stabbed," Jace explains, voice eerily calm for what he's telling Simon, "And I'm pretty sure I've broken a couple ribs."  
  
"What were you doing? Why didn't you go to the hospital? What the hell?" Simon’s the only one panicking. Jace seems to have accepted this, and levels Simon with a look.  
  
"I got jumped by this asshole's friends. I didn't see them coming," he grumbles the last part mostly to himself, as some sort of reprimand, "and I don't need to go to the hospital, I heal fast. I'll be fine in a few hours."  
  
Simon still runs to the kitchen to get a bag of ice and a warm, wet towel for Jace's wound. He wants to yell at Jace for being so reckless and letting himself get hurt, but convinces himself to calm down and address the situation at hand.  
  
Simon sits next to Jace's side and holds both items up. "Take your shirt off."  
  
"At least buy me dinner first," Jace jokes, grinning weakly, clearly trying to diffuse the tension. It doesn't work. Simon wants to smother him with one of the pillows.  
  
"Shut up."  
  
Jace sobers up at the cold tone of Simon's voice and does as he's told, and Simon winces. There are dark bruises littering his torso, and a nasty wound on his left side. It doesn't seem to be bleeding much, but judging by the blood on Jace's shirt, it must have been gushing a lot earlier.  
  
"They really got you, didn't they?" He places the ice pack on his bruises, and Jace groans, practically melting into the couch.  
  
"I needed that. Let me do this." Simon hands him the towel and he cleans the wound himself, then presses the towel against it. Simon turns away and stares at his hands in his lap.  
  
"Why are you here?" He finally asks. He doesn't want to come off as rude, or as if he doesn't want Jace around, but he's confused. Worried and surprised and confused. “And why didn’t you use the door?”  
  
“There are some people sitting around the front,” Jace tells him, and Simon knows he’s talking about his annoying neighbors from downstairs who never seem to sleep and always play their music too loud. "Clary is with Izzy. Alec's with Magnus and I didn’t want to intrude. I didn't have anywhere else to go."  
  
Of course, Simon thinks, a little bitterly, before telling himself to put a lid on it.  
  
"I'm sorry." Jace says suddenly. Simon glances at him, frowning in confusion, and he can see suddenly how exhausted Jace is. He doesn't stop himself from brushing Jace’s hair out of his face and Jace falters at that.  
  
Simon remembers to speak, pulling away. "For what?"  
  
"Barging in on you like this. I didn't want to bother you but... Even if Izzy and Alec were alone, I still would have rather come here," Jace expresses honestly, staring at his own bruises. "You're the only person who wouldn't freak out."  
  
"I'm pretty freaked out right now." Simon laughs nervously, shaking his head. His heart still hasn’t stopped pounding.   
  
"They worry too much." Jace clarifies, and Simon wants to respond,  _I worry about you too, all the time. I've worried that you'd go and get yourself killed since finding out about your other life_ , but he stays silent.  
  
"Well, they should. You almost died."  
  
"That's stretching it," Jace rolls his eyes, and Simon's stomach clenches uncomfortably.  
  
"Are you sure you don't need stitches?"  
  
"I've never needed stitches in my entire life. Quick healing, like I said before."  
  
"Congratulations." Simon comments dryly. "Maybe stop being so reckless."  
  
"I'm not reckless." Jace sounds annoyed, like he's heard this too many times, and he probably has, for good reasons. There's a sudden shift in mood.  
  
"Right. You seek out trouble and get your ass kicked and that's not being reckless?"  
  
Jace's face goes through a multitude of expressions, too fast for Simon to properly comprehend, before settling back on annoyed.  
  
"I do what I have to do."  
  
"You don't have to do anything!" Simon exclaims, standing. "Jace, you need to stop running into danger the way you do. Why do you think Izzy and Alec worry as much as they do? I'm betting they've seen you like this countless times —"  
  
"Simon, what I _do_ is not your business." Jace sounds as if he's trying to keep himself from snapping at Simon, which is ironic considering Simon himself wants to yell at Jace.  
  
"You're making it my business, by coming here and making me see you like this."  
  
"Then I'll leave," Jace says, teeth gritted. He moves to sit up but winces in pain again, before Simon pushes him back down.  
  
"Don't be an idiot," Simon huffs, agitated. "Where are you going to go?"  
  
Jace glares at him in silence, before fixing his glare on the wall behind Simon.  
  
"I thought you'd understand," he finally speaks, "why I do it. After what I told you."  
  
Simon blinks, and remembers bits of their conversation in the library. His anger deflates, settling back into mild annoyance and concern, and he feels like an asshole. Not enough to apologize, though, because he believes his anger in Jace's daredevil nature is justified.  
  
"Maybe I don't." He counters, and it's the wrong thing to say, judging by the look on Jace's face. "That’s not an excuse. Nobody's forcing you to put yourself in danger.”   
  
“An  _excuse?_ ” Jace exclaims, suddenly furious. “You really think – ?” He stops suddenly, breathing harshly through his nose, going eerily silent.   
  
“I'm going to my room. Just call for me if you need anything.” Simon tells him, not trusting himself to say anything else and escalate the argument, or have Jace storm out and get himself hurt worse.  
  
Simon turns, and reaches for his long forgotten textbook lying on the floor. He avoids Jace's eyes and storms away, closing his bedroom door behind him. He wishes he could knock some sense into Jace, let him know that there are actual people out there who worry about him and don't want to have to find him dead one of these days, but Jace is stubborn and annoyingly dedicated, and refuses to listen to anyone but himself, Simon thinks.  
  
It's no surprise to Simon when Jace is gone the next morning.

  
\------

  
**Izzy – 2:05 PM – Listen, I don’t know what’s going on between you and Jace but fix it.**

  
\------

  
**Alec L. – 7:23 PM – I tell you not to mess things up and you do just that. Congrats, I guess.**

  
\------

  
A while into their exam week, Clary corners him and asks what’s going on between him and Jace. She claims that Simon’s been  _moping_ , and apparently Jace had made some offhanded comment about not talking to Simon when he’d been with her and she’d brought him up.     
  
Simon tries to deflect her question, or change the subject, but she’s persistent.  
  
“Did you… did you tell him how you feel? Did he  _reject_  you?” Clary reaches out. “Simon – “  
  
“ _No_ , of course I didn’t tell him, I literally never will.” Simon shakes his head, sighing at her. “We just had this… disagreement the other day and I pissed him off.”  
  
“Disagreement about what?”  
  
_Oh, just about how Jace is the roof-hopping, crime stopping vigilante you used to be so dedicated to and I want him to be more careful but he loves throwing himself in front of knives and shit._  
  
“I can’t even remember. It was stupid.”  
  
Clary snorts, hands on her hips. “Fine, don’t tell me, but at least fix it so you stop looking like a kicked puppy.”  
  
And Simon does try; he tried when Izzy had texted him, and also when Alec had texted him because Alec literally only texted him once before and that was, like, a year ago. Jace ignores him, gives him hard looks, brushes past him and treats him to the coldest shoulder he’s ever given him when Simon does manage to run into him. Jace is not an easy person to track down when he doesn’t want to be.  
  
Simon knows he messed up, that he’s wrong. He’d been upset in the moment and had said things he shouldn’t have, but a small stubborn part of him snaps that what he said was justified, and  _Jace should think of the people who know and love him and be more careful_!  
  
Soon, exams pass, and the semester comes to an end. It had felt much, much longer than any of Simon’s past semesters, and he’s immensely relieved to be done with it.  
  
Simon’s going to Jocelyn and Luke’s place for dinner with Clary. It’s been months since he’s seen them, and he misses them almost as much as he’d miss his own family. In reality, they have become his family after so many years.  
  
Jocelyn pulls him into a bone-crushing hug the moment she opens the door. He hugs her back and smiles into her hair, conveying to her how much he’d missed her. She does the same to Clary before closing the door behind them and telling them that dinner’s almost ready.  
  
Luke is setting the table and, after exchanging enthusiastic greetings, they help him finish.  
  
"Help yourselves to whatever you'd like and prepare to tell us every little detail about your lives," Jocelyn says gleefully. They make their plates and sit, and conversation flows as easily as if they'd just seen each other yesterday, and not weeks, even months ago.  
  
"A year closer to graduating," Clary sighs, and Simon nods along. They'll be juniors next semester, and the workload will only increase, so they're planning to make the most out of their summer.  
  
"Oh, by the way," Clary perks up, folding her hands together, "guess who got that internship she really wanted, at the art institute?"  
  
"You did!" Jocelyn gasps, and Simon's just as surprised  — Clary had signed up for it months ago but never spoken about it since. Seems like she was waiting to surprise them.  
  
"That's my girl," Luke says proudly and Clary positively beams. Simon pulls her in for a hug, her smile infectious.  
  
"I love you guys." She's in a great mood and Simon is so happy for her.  
  
The rest of dinner goes by swimmingly, what with Jocelyn describing a few paintings she'd sold and Luke recounting a story about a criminal they'd apprehended who'd tried to escape by stealing a police vehicle. Simon's missed this; their easy conversation and light humor. It's just what he needed to relieve some of the tension in his system.  
  
They contemplate playing monopoly — Luke shuts that down, reminding them of the mess they'd made the last time and how Clary had almost strangled Simon — so they settle in to watch one of those new Marvel movies, with Jocelyn commenting on almost every scene the way she always does.  
  
She tries to get them to spend the night but Clary has to prepare for her internship. Simon goes outside to sit on the steps of the front porch while he waits for Clary, who's gone upstairs to see some of Jocelyn's in-progress works.  
  
He crosses his arms and finds himself thinking, yet again, about Jace. He wonders where he is now; what he's doing. If he's okay. He hasn't stopped worrying; he’s actually started worrying  _more_  after that night.  
  
"What's on your mind?"  
  
Simon turns to see Luke leaning against the railing of their porch. He's inspecting Simon with a knowing look, and Simon remembers how attentive Luke is. He is an NYPD detective, after all. That's practically half his job.  
  
"Nothing much," Simon waves him away, turning back and staring at his shoes, "just worrying about my grades and stuff." He smiles in Luke's general direction but the man sees right through it.  
  
"Something's bothering you, Simon. I can always tell. You weren't as chipper back in there as you usually are."  
  
Of course, Luke can read him like an open book. He's been doing so since Simon was a kid. Simon's father had died when he was around ten, and after a while, Luke had managed to become the father figure Simon hadn't known he'd needed. He's had more talks with Luke than he can remember, and the man has always been there for him.  
  
Simon finally relents, allowing his forced smile to die. "I had this argument with a friend, and now they're not talking to me." Jeez, he sounds like a middle schooler.  
  
"What was the argument about?"  
  
"They insist on throwing themselves into danger for others and I know they mean well, but I can't help but worry about them. I told them that they shouldn't be doing it, and it pissed them off."  
  
"Danger?" Luke raises his eyebrows.  
  
"Yeah," Simon mutters, "I know, it's crazy."  
  
He doesn't exactly know how to explain to Luke what Jace does without revealing his identity to him – lots of police officers dislike the Shadowhunter, others think he’s a great helping hand, and Simon’s not sure about Luke’s stance on him – so he tries to creep around the subject and give as little information as possible. He can sense Luke going into overprotective-dad-cop mode.   
  
“Um. They had a very bad childhood? And what they do is kind of because of that.”  
  
“Ah, I see,” Luke says, leaning forward and lacing his fingers together.   
  
“I don’t?” Simon looks up at Luke, a little confused.  
  
“It’s pretty clear, Simon,” Luke tells him. “People deal with trauma in countless different ways. Everyone has different coping mechanisms. What your friend does most likely helps them deal with what they went through.”  
  
“Well, yeah,” Simon pauses. “But they’re still out there risking their life, Luke, and that scares me! I just want them to be safe – “  
  
“Simon.” Luke stops him there, holding a hand out. “I know you want your friend to be safe, I get that. I am a cop, after all. But you have to know that you can’t try to control them. If they’re really helping people like you say they are, isn’t that a good thing?”  
  
“Yes. But – “   
  
“It’s their life, and they’re doing what they believe is right. You can only do so much for them, before it starts to turn into you trying to tell them what they can and can’t do. You can’t tell someone that they need to stop doing something that helps them cope with their trauma, Simon, that’s just selfish and dangerous.”   
  
A small, stubborn part of Simon wants to argue with Luke, but the logical part of him knows Luke is right. He hadn’t just told Jace to be safer, he’d also, selfishly, told him to stop what he was doing completely. He remembers, suddenly, what Jace had told him when they’d been talking in the library:  
  
_“_ _I wasn’t as perfect, nor as strong as he wanted me to be, and he’d punish me relentlessly for that.” – “For the first time, I realized that I wasn’t all bad. I could stop seeing_   _what I can do as something completely negative and help people.”_  
  
Simon buries his face in his hands and groans. He now realizes why Jace had been so furious – Simon had told him that he was using his childhood as an excuse – it was a horribly awful thing to say and he hadn’t realized it then, but he does now. Jace had confided in him,  _trusted_  him, and Simon had thrown it all back in his face, practically telling him that he was exaggerating. Jace has every right to ignore Simon, even hate him. He could materialize out of thin air and punch Simon directly in the face and Simon would deserve it, and more. Jace saves people’s  _lives_  and Simon had literally overlooked that.  
  
“I’m a  _complete asshole_.”   
  
“We all make mistakes.” Luke assures him, but Simon shakes his head. This wasn’t a mistake, this was him ignoring the things he’d been told because he hadn’t believed they were as important as they are.  
  
“Thanks, Luke,” Simon sighs, standing. He’d helped him see the error of his ways, because he’d been too self-centered to do so himself, and Simon’s eternally thankful for him. Luke nods, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing.  
  
“Just want to make sure you’re okay.”  
  
Simon pulls Luke into a hug, face in the man’s solid chest. Luke’s momentarily surprised, but pats him on the back and tells him that he’ll be alright.  
  
“Talk to your friend. Hopefully they’ll understand.”  
  
“Well, what’s going on here?”  
  
Simon pulls away as Jocelyn and Clary step out onto the porch. Clary has an eyebrow arched in amusement and Simon hopes Luke doesn’t tell them what they’d been talking about.  
  
“Manly bonding,” Luke jokes, and Jocelyn laughs.   
  
“Will you two be alright? Luke, you should drive them home.”  
  
“Oh, no, that’s fine –” Simon starts to protest – they can just take a cab – but Luke nods, stepping back inside to get his keys.  
  
“Be safe, alright? Call me about your internship, sweetheart.” She pulls Clary in for a hug, and does the same for Simon right after.  
  
“It’s getting late, let’s get a move on,” Luke dangles his keys in front of them, and they pile into his car so they can be on their way.   
  
Luke and Clary discuss politics the entire way back, but Simon stays silent, thinking to himself about how he can get Jace to even stop and hear him out. He’s not sure if dropping to his knees and begging would be the best tactic, but if he must do it, he will.   
  
“Goodnight!” Clary hugs Luke through his open window and makes her way up the steps of their building.   
  
“Make sure you keep that head screwed on tight,” Luke says, holding his fist out. Simon fist bumps him and nods, still feeling very much like an idiot. “And tell your vigilante friend to play it safe kicking ass out there.”  
  
Simon closes his eyes for a moment, then blinks at Luke. “Should I ask how you… know?”  
  
“Out there risking their life? Throwing themselves into danger for others?” Luke quotes Simon and he curses under his breath. Of course Luke, a detective of all things, would figure it out. Simon’s terrible at this.   
  
“Listen,” Luke assures him, “I’m not committed to finding out who it is. It’s your business. Just keep it quiet, alright? Be careful out there.”  
  
Simon nods, thanking Luke again and feeling a little relieved, but as ridiculous as ever.  
  
He stays up quite late that night, wondering if he should text Jace or not, staring at the (finally fixed) screen of his phone, before deciding that he’d rather talk to him in person. Jace will most likely ignore any text he sends, anyway. He’ll ask Clary if she’s seeing him any time soon in the morning, and hope that he’s not completely dead to Jace.

  
\----- 

  
“Magnus is having a party tonight.” Clary tells him the next morning, the minute he steps into the kitchen. “Izzy invited us.” She pours Simon some coffee in his favorite mug – it has the Starbucks logo but instead says ‘Star Wars Coffee’ and has a drawing of a Stormtrooper helmet inside the green circle.  
  
Simon responds with a nonchalant  _cool_ , before realizing that Jace is most likely going to be there. He internally panics for a second, until he reminds himself that it’s a good thing; he’ll get to talk to Jace and straighten things out.   
  
Simon has a short shift at work and tries not to spend the entire time there worrying about Jace. His co-worker Raj is a typical pain in the ass and distracts Simon long enough for him to forget about his personal problems and focus instead on not tearing Raj a new one.  
  
When his shift finally ends, he gets back to his place, to Clary asking which dress he thinks she should wear. The party is a bit formal, because it’s Magnus and he will settle for no less, and Simon chooses the darker blue dress because it goes well with her hair.   
  
Magnus answers the door himself when they arrive at his place. They're a bit late — it started almost an hour ago — and there are lots of people there.  
  
"Clarissa!" Magnus greets enthusiastically, "How's my biscuit doing?" They exchanged pleasantries and a hug and Magnus acknowledges Simon with a, "Good evening, Sherman," and he doesn't bother correcting him because they both know that he knows Simon's name and enjoys getting it wrong every time simply to poke fun at him.  
  
"Make yourselves at home." Magnus shuts the door behind them and moves off to where Alec is standing by a window with a drink in hand, rolling his eyes in Simon’s direction.  
  
"I'm going to find Isabelle," Clary informs him, leaving Simon standing in the middle of the crowded room on his own. He tries not to look as out of place as he feels and walks over to the snack bar. He doesn't know many of the people here; a couple he recognizes but isn't acquainted with, and the rest are probably friends of Magnus', or friends of friends. Music is playing but it’s not too loud, and that calms him a bit.  
  
"Hey, stranger," Maia calls out to him, pushing past someone to join him at the table, and he's instantly relieved.  
  
"Hey! I barely know anyone here," He admits, and Maia snorts, picking at one of the appetizers.  
  
"Talk to someone, make friends, stop looking like a loner. You know?"  
  
"I'm kind of bad at that," he grumbles, graciously accepting the drink she offers him. He's not sure if it's alcoholic, but doesn't ask, as he knows Maia's response will be to laugh him off and go, 'just take a sip and see for yourself'. He does just that and winces at the way it burns down his throat, coughing and setting it back down. Maia shakes her head, trying not to laugh at him.  
  
"Suit yourself," she scoops up his drink and downs it in one go.  
  
"By the way," Simon starts, attempting to sound as casual as possible, "have you seen Jace?"  
  
"Oh yeah," Maia points off somewhere and Simon doesn’t know Magnus’ loft well enough to know where she’s pointing to. “Saw him in the hall earlier, kinda looked like he wanted to die or something – is that Bat Velasquez from my Organic Chemistry class?” She narrows her eyes at a group of people chatting across the room and brushes past Simon before he can get a single word in.  
  
“Alright,” Simon mumbles, and makes his way past the people littered around the space, trying to get to where Maia had pointed out to him. He thinks he can see a blond head of hair, and his heart jumps, but before he can get closer a hand grips his arm. He whips around and is faced with no other than Camille. Annoyance sets inside him, and then a little bit of panic because, if Camille is here, Raphael most likely is too and Simon does not want to deal with either of the two.  
  
“Simon! Fancy running into you here,” she smiles sweetly at him and he internally throws a fit.  
  
“Hi Camille. Do you need something?”   
  
“Oh no, of course not. Can’t we just have a nice conversation between acquaintances?”   
  
“What are you doing here?” Simon asks, aware that he’s come off as rude but a little too distracted to care. This is the second time he’s ever seen this woman and he wishes it wasn’t at a friend’s party.  
  
“I’m an old friend of Bane’s,” she simply states, looking Simon over. Of course, Simon thinks. New York just isn’t big enough, is it?  
  
“Is… Raphael here?” He can’t help but ask.  
  
“No.” She responds shortly, mood souring. “He’s busy.” She checks her nails and Simon stands there for a moment, awkwardly wondering how to best get away.  
  
“Alright. Well, I actually have to find someone, so…” he points off into the direction he’s headed, and Camille puts a hand on her hip, looking bored.  
  
“Your boyfriend?”   
  
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Simon fumbles, but her expression changes and she seems delighted at the fact that he instantly knew who she was talking about without her even mentioning his name.  
  
“Could’ve fooled me,” she smirks, “pretty boy had a nice smolder going on that one time. Seems like the jealous type.”  
  
“What? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Simon insists, “I gotta go.”   
  
“Have fun chasing after your boy toy, sweetheart, I’m hitting the liquor.”   
  
He’s relieved that she walks away without another word, turning back to scan his destination.   
  
He immediately spots Jace: leaning against the wall of the hallway, looking indifferent while Aline’s cousin, the exchange student from London – Simon thinks his name is Sebastian – rattles on about something or the other. Simon hesitates, nerves flaring at the possibility of messing up and making things worse, or not being given the chance to talk. He slowly approaches Jace, who shifts a little to look at him, as if he’s been aware of his presence for a while and was waiting for him to step up, which, considering all that he can do, he most likely has. It’s a bit disconcerting.    
  
“Um.” Simon is at a loss for words for a hot second before blurting out a single, “Hi.”  
  
Sebastian – bless his heart – catches the atmosphere surrounding them and smiles sweetly at them both. “I’ve got to run, nice chatting with you!” He brushes past Simon politely and disappears into the throng of people.  
  
Jace has a faded bruise under his eye and looks exhausted when Simon studies him closely. He wants nothing more than to reach out and ask him if he’s alright, ask what’s bothering him, but he knows he lost that privilege ages ago. He’s hit with a longing so strong that he has to reach out and place a hand against the wall to steady himself.  
  
"Jace," Simon starts again, "Can we talk?"  
  
Jace stares at the ceiling for a few seconds before sighing and pushing himself off the wall. "I don't see why not."  
  
"I just — it took me a while, but — I think I —" Simon's a rambling mess; he has so many things he wants to say but doesn't know where to start. Jace puts a hand up, abruptly stopping him.  
  
"Not here," he says, voice low, and ushers for Simon to follow him. He steps past people as Jace leads him to Magnus' balcony. A couple is sitting on the couch discussing something, and someone’s leaning over the railing slightly, on the phone. There’s a cool breeze running through the air; It's considerably quiet and empty there and Jace pulls him towards a corner, out of earshot, and crosses his arms, back against the railing.  
  
"What?" Jace raises his eyebrows at Simon, who shoves his hands in his pockets, taking a deep breath.  
  
“I want to apologize, for everything I said that day. I was thinking of myself when I should have stopped and thought about what it all meant to you.”  
  
“I  _told_ you what it all meant to me,” Jace says, shaking his head. He stares up at the night sky, seemingly exasperated with Simon.  
  
“I know! But I never understood exactly how much and I never looked at,” he stretches his arms out, “the grand scheme of things! You told me about all the horrible things you endured and I never – I hadn’t actually thought about, you know, the psychological trauma that you have to carry with you because of that. You have every right to be angry and hate me – “  
  
“I’m not angry,” Jace states, “not much anymore. Mainly just disappointed.”   
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
“I told you something I’ve only told three other people in my life, Simon. Because I trusted you. It’s pretty upsetting, having someone I trust disregard all of that.”  
  
Guilt and shame course through Simon and he feels awful for having made Jace feel that way. He stares down at his shoes, nodding. “You go out there and risk your life for people – you  _save_  them, you make people feel safer, and I overlooked that. I was being selfish and I came off as controlling… that wasn’t my intention but I still said what I said and I wish I hadn’t. I wish I had stopped to think about  _you_  instead of being so self-absorbed.”  
  
The bruise under Jace’s eye has nearly faded completely; faster than it would have for any other person. He’s studying Simon, who burns under his gaze.  
  
“I wish it hadn’t taken me this long to understand.” Simon whispers, eyes stinging.  
  
“I’m not going to stop what I do,” Jace starts slowly, “if I stop, more people get hurt. I have to do it.”  
  
“I know.” Simon wraps his arms around himself. “I don’t want you to stop.”  
  
A silence stretches over them and, while it’s not awkward, Simon can’t help the way his heart drops. He finally meets Jace’s eyes and forcibly smiles at him. “You don’t have to forgive me, or anything. I just wanted to apologize and I wanted you to know how I feel about this. I’m sorry. I’ll leave you alone.” He steps away from Jace, who’s got a look on his face that Simon can’t quite decipher, and turns away to leave.  
  
“Simon.” Jace reaches out suddenly and Simon turns back to look at him. “I’m not… I don’t hate you. I know that you were worried, and it means a lot, but I don’t want you to be.”  
  
“That’s not gonna happen,” Simon admits. “I worry about you all the time.”  
  
Jace’s expression softens at that, and he sighs. “It’s a bit unfair of me to expect you not to worry, isn’t it?”  
  
“Just a bit,” Simon jokes lightly, turning to Jace completely.  
  
The wind breezes through Jace’s hair, and he runs his fingers through it. “I’ll have to deal with that… I forgive you.”  
  
“Really?” Simon’s eyes widen, and he tries not to crowd Jace against the railing, with the way he quickly steps up to him.  
  
“Yes,” he asserts, “I appreciate what you've said.”  
  
“Thank you, for hearing me out,” Simon says, “I meant it all.”  
  
“You seemed sincere.” There’s a humorous tone to his voice, because he’s  _Jace_ , of course there is. Simon tries to keep himself from pouncing on him; his heart’s racing too fast.  
  
“I really was. I am!”  
  
Jace smiles slowly, leaning farther back, and Simon’s plagued with the urge to reach out and hug him. So, he does.  
  
Jace tenses under his touch; for a second, Simon worries he’s made him uncomfortable, but then he sighs in defeat and drops his chin onto Simon’s shoulder.  
  
“I missed you.” Simon mumbles into his hair, unable to keep it in.  
  
“I am me, of course you did.”  
  
He pulls away. They lock eyes, and Simon has never wanted to kiss Jace more than he does now.  
  
“So, uh,” Simon flushes, looking away and wringing his hands, “We should probably… get back?”  
  
Jace raises an eyebrow at him as if he knows something Simon doesn’t, and nods. “Alright.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“If you insist.”  
  
Simon steps back into Magnus' place, Jace close behind him, and Clary spots him immediately. She nudges past a few people to reach him, arm hooked through Isabelle's.  
  
“Hey!” She calls out, and Isabelle smiles at them, all squinty-eyed and perceptive.  
  
“We should dance,” Izzy proposes, “all of us, just get wild.”  
  
“Sounds fun,” Jace comments airily, “but I’ve gotta run.”  
  
“Where are you going?” Clary asks with a frown, “we haven’t been here long.”  
  
And normally, they’re all better at deflecting questions and pretending like everything is just peachy, but Simon looks at Jace, as does Izzy, and then they all look back at Clary. She blinks at the three of them, and narrows her eyes.  
  
“What’s up? Is there something you’re not telling me?”   
  
“Um,” Simon quickly interjects, “Jace has a date.”  
  
He’s not sure where that’s come from, but shrugs it off as if it’s nothing. It’s got Clary off their trail, at the very least. Jace cocks his head at Simon, eyebrows furrowed. Clary’s giving Simon a sad look, and Simon only then remembers his embarrassing crush and that he should play heartbroken at the mention of Jace dating other people. Izzy rolls her eyes at the three of them.  
  
“Oh. Have fun.” Clary smiles, thin lipped, and Jace nods at her, tossing a thanks and leaving them. She places a hand on Simon’s arm. “Hey. Sorry, that must suck,” she says, voice reassuring and soft, and Simon feels all kinds of awful for lying to her but he can’t take it back and shrugs again.  
  
“They’re not serious,” Isabelle comments, and the looks she’s sending Simon practically screams,  _really? That’s the best you could come up with?_  He shoots back a,  _well you weren’t exactly helping, were you?_  And they both look away from one another and focus on Clary.  
  
Clary merely hums, deep in thought. Then:  
  
"I'm guessing you two are on good terms again?"  
  
Simon flushes, trying to bite back the wide smile that's spreading on his face. "Yeah. We — yeah. Hopefully." He's apologized, and Jace has forgiven him, but he hopes it's not going to be awkward and that they can go back to the way things used to be between them. He hopes he’s managed to salvage the trust between them.  
  
"That's great! Simon's finally gonna stop looking like a kid who’s had his candy taken from him," She quips, nudging Izzy.  
  
"So is Jace," Izzy mutters offhandedly, before tugging on Clary's arm. "Come on, these boys are boring. Want to dance?"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
Clary, yet again, leaves Simon, but he doesn't feel any of the anxiety or loneliness he had carried with him when they'd walked in. Instead, he feels like the weight of the world has been lifted off him, and his heart is lighter. It's ridiculous how strongly Jace makes him feel.  
  
"Wait up!" He calls out to the girls, and pushes past people to catch up to them.

  
\------

  
It’s been raining heavily all morning and afternoon and there are no signs that it’s going to stop soon. Simon’s not sure if he can blame his sour mood on the weather, but it’s definitely making him feel worse than he already does.  
  
Simon curls up in his bed, laptop seated on a pillow next to him. He’s trying to figure out what to buy for Elaine, as her birthday is less than a month away and Rebecca’s apparently already gotten her something, which makes Simon curious and antsy. They always try to see who can get their mother the better gift, even though she refuses to tell them whose she likes more.  
  
Clary is at Isabelle’s place – they’ve been spending most of their free time over the summer with each other – because Izzy wants her to be in a make-up vlog she’s currently making. It’s no surprise that Izzy’s a beauty vlogger; she’s gorgeous and everyone knows it, which is why her popularity is quickly growing.   
  
Simon’s phone vibrates from where it’s buried under his blanket and he digs it out, checking the text.  
  
**Jace – 4:12 PM – Are you at your place?**  
  
**_Yep,_  **Simon sends back, sitting up.   
  
**Jace – Can I come over?**  
  
**_Yeah of course :-)_**  
  
They’ve spent quite a lot of time together since making amends, talking things through, and having lengthy conversations about everything that comes to mind. Simon’s insanely happy that he didn’t ruin their relationship – if anything, Jace has opened himself up more, answering any questions Simon has without judgment.  
  
A part of Simon wants to tell Jace how he feels. He doesn’t know if he can keep it in any longer; it’s ridiculously distracting and it’s a wonder Jace doesn’t already know. He feels unexplainable things each time Jace smiles, or even looks at him. He thinks it’s stupid.   
  
But on the other hand, he cares about Jace more than he can explain and doesn’t want to ruin the relationship they have. It means the world to him – losing Jace over his feelings for him would be the absolute worst thing.  
  
Despite all of that, he wishes he had told Jace that he was busy. As much as he loves the guy, he’s currently not feeling up to being around anyone.  
  
There’s a knock at the door and Simon pulls himself out of bed to answer it. Jace is dripping wet, hair clinging to his face, and smiling. Simon doesn’t drop his gaze to his wet shirt – he just doesn’t.  
  
“I love this weather,” Jace says, toeing off his boots as Simon shuts the door.   
  
“You look like you went swimming, fully clothed.”   
  
“Feels like it,” Jace shivers, and Simon beckons him further in.  
  
“If you want, I can get you something to change into and you can throw your clothes in the dryer.”  
  
“That sounds great.”  
  
Simon finds a loose pair of sweatpants and a comfortable shirt, and lies back down on his bed while Jace changes in the bathroom. He pulls his laptop onto his stomach and continues scrolling, though his mind is elsewhere.  
  
He glances at his guitar, propped up against his desk, and has the urge to play it the way he often does when he's a little anxious. Instead, he compares the two fancy purses on his screen and listens to Jace work the dryer.  
  
"I was thinking," Jace calls out, entering Simon's room and perching on the edge of his bed, "if the rain calms down a bit sometime soon, we can go out to eat."  
  
"Sure," Simon says, eyes on Jace's hair. It's lighter now that it's drying. He ignores the way seeing Jace in his clothing makes his chest tighten and how his shirt stretches over Jace’s chest.  
  
"You okay?" Jace asks, and Simon blinks, nodding.  
  
"Yeah, I just — I don't know. It's weird."  
  
"I doubt it's that weird," there's humor in his voice, and Simon's pretty sure he means,  _nothing could be weirder than my kind of weird_. He shifts over so he's sitting cross-legged next to Simon, raising his eyebrows. "Are you shopping for purses?"  
  
"My mom's birthday is coming up, and I have no idea what to get her," Simon sighs, hoping it'll distract Jace from attempting to psychoanalyze him.  
  
"You should ask Izzy. Just tell her about your mom and she'll manage to find the perfect thing. She's got a gift for it."  
  
"Thanks," Simon shuts his laptop, pushing it aside, and Jace laces his fingers together, studying him.  
  
"Do you want to talk about it?"  
  
"Not really," Simon admits, feeling guilty suddenly. Jace most likely came over expecting Simon to be his usual self, and now he's ruining the mood by being sullen and heartsick. He kind of really hates himself. Jace is watching him with a contemplative look.  
  
Jace leans over him suddenly, and his hair falls into his face. "I keep thinking about you," he finally says, "how you level me out sometimes." He then gets a strange look on his face, as if he hadn't meant to say that.  
  
"What? How?" Simon snorts. If anything, it's the opposite. Jace is calm and assured where Simon is tense and self-conscious.  
  
"I get in over my head at times," Jace confesses, "and it's exhausting. When things get too hard to deal with, I overexert myself. But lately I think about you and our conversations and that... helps."  
  
Simon isn't quite sure what to say to that. Jace is staring at his hands, hesitant in the way he is every time he opens up. And Simon just thinks about how unfair it is, that Jace can talk about how much Simon means to him, yet Simon can't even bring himself to be honest with him. It’s clear that Jace is toning down his usual sarcastic self because of the way Simon is at the moment. He wants Jace’s cockiness back.  
  
"Jace," Simon sits up, crossing his arms. "You know I'm here for you, right?"  
  
"Likewise," Jace purses his lips at him, "So, are you going to tell me what's bothering you?"  
  
"Ugh," Simon groans, dropping a leg over the edge of his bed, "No. Let's watch a movie instead. I can't talk emotions right now."  
  
"Simon," Jace sighs, not moving an inch, "there's been something up with you for the past few days."  
  
And just like that, Simon's eyes are stinging. He squints up at his ceiling, and doesn't know what to do. Because he's held things in for so long that he's not sure how to deal with them, and he doesn't want to talk about them; definitely not here and not now. He just wants Jace to stop looking at him like that — like Simon's someone important and interesting, who definitely doesn't have to physically stop himself from touching Jace the way he truly wants to touch him. He didn’t ask for this.  
  
“God, I hate you,” he laughs bitterly.  
  
“What’s new?” Jace jokes, but there’s concern in his eyes and he sits straighter.  
  
“Just stop being so… perfect or whatever,” Simon gestures to Jace’s entire body, avoiding his eyes.  
  
“That’s too much to ask of me.” He shakes his head, a confused smile on his face. “Simon.”  
  
“I like you,” Simon blurts, unable to stop himself. He immediately buries his face in his hands, groaning. It’s a crappy way to admit to someone that you’re practically in love with them, but now he can’t even turn back and change the subject, or pretend it was a joke.  
  
“I know,” Jace simply says.  
  
“Not like  _that_ ,” Simon drops his hands onto his lap. “I mean… romantically. I have a crush on you.” He mumbles the last part, his entire body on fire.  
  
“Yeah. I know.” Jace repeats slowly, and Simon snaps up to look at him. Jace holds a hand up to prevent him from speaking up. “I sort of found out, a while back – I didn’t expect you to have feelings for me but you’re very expressive. I just… wasn’t sure if I was reading things right, or how to bring it up.”  
  
Of course Simon is expressive – everyone has said that. He unintentionally carries his heart on his sleeve, his eyes are windows to his soul, he’s a terrible liar, all of that and more. But he’d been under the impression that Jace had been too preoccupied with his own life to notice. Simon’s mood worsens immensely. He thinks about how awkward that must have been for Jace, knowing that Simon has feelings for him, and feels awful for having made him uncomfortable.  
  
Simon, honest to god, wants to cry.  
  
“Okay,” he turns away from Jace. He can’t look at him right now. “You should go.”  
  
Jace shifts over so he’s sitting right next to Simon. “For someone so smart, you’re terrible at reading cues.”  
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Simon glares at the ground. He has done nothing to deserve to be mocked, especially not now.  
  
Jace reaches out suddenly, cupping Simon’s face. Their eyes meet and Jace is in his space, closer than he’d thought. “You’re unbelievable.” Then he kisses him.  
  
Simon inhales sharply through his nose, going lightheaded at once. Jace is kissing him. He’s actually – Simon wraps his fingers around Jace’s wrist, immediately focusing on the feeling of Jace’s lips on his. They’re so soft, and Jace smells like the rain and tastes like coffee. His thumb brushes across Simon’s cheek, and Simon all but sags against him.  
  
Jace pulls away as fast as he had started, and Simon blinks. He’s still holding Jace’s wrist, but he doesn’t pull away. Jace’s brilliant eyes are focused on him as if he’s the most important thing in the world, and Simon wants to melt into his sheets.  
  
“Jace,” he starts, voice unsteady.  
  
“I don’t open up to just anyone, you know.” He tells him with a grin.  
  
“Oh my gosh,” Simon whispers, blushing furiously, “you like me back.”  
  
“As if it wasn’t obvious just now. ‘Like’ is a pretty underwhelming word.”  
  
Simon surges forward in an attempt to kiss him again but misses, catching the corner of his mouth instead. Jace snorts out a laugh, and gives him what he wants, mouth on his. Jace is an amazing kisser; he greatly exceeds Simon’s expectations and the ways he’d imagined Jace would kiss him. He’s warm, pressing against Simon, fingers trailing down his arm, every movement forcing his heart to beat faster.  
  
They separate but stay close, Jace’s hand setting on Simon’s thigh, practically radiating heat to every part of his body.  
  
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Jace asks.  
  
Simon wants to roll his eyes, ask why someone as awkward and mediocre as him would ever believe he’d have a chance with Jace – gorgeous, spectacular, ridiculously fit Jace.  
  
“A ten would never go for a three,” he jokes lightly, instead.  
  
Jace knits his brows, “I’m a three? I’ve got to be a seven, at the very least.”  
  
Simon groans, tells Jace to shut up, and buries his face in the crook of his neck. But Jace understands him, and it’s enough. “I’m crazy about you,” he mumbles against him, and Jace’s fingers are in his hair, soft and soothing, as Simon’s heart tries to break through his ribcage.  
  
-  
  
They decide to go for Chinese food at the family-owned restaurant around the corner.  
  
The rain has settled into a light shower, and Simon nervously takes Jace’s hands as they walk there. Jace shoots him a soft, reassuring smile, and intertwines their fingers.  
  
Simon is deliriously happy.

  
\------

  
"I'm a bit offended," Magnus starts, reclining against one of the couches on his balcony, "that you haven't asked me to do your make-up for one of your vlogs, Isabelle."  
  
Izzy glances up from where she sits, laptop balanced on her lap, and shakes her head. "I was actually planning on asking you this weekend. How could I forget about you, Magnus?"  
  
He places a hand over his heart, raising his eyebrows, and Alec scoffs. "She totally forgot."  
  
"Oh, I'm well aware. Betrayal hurts."  
  
Simon sighs, stretching his legs out on the fancy, dark red chaise lounge that Magnus recently bought. It seems to be an expensive brand, not to mention extremely comfortable, and he sinks into it, closing his eyes.  
  
Clary is at her internship, and Simon had tagged along with Izzy to Magnus' place, because Jace had promptly disappeared the second they'd heard about a hostage situation in another bank on the news (it's ridiculous, Simon thinks, how people are so obsessed with robbing banks — and they never get away with it either).  
  
They're sitting around, waiting for him to return, and Izzy has been talking about her YouTube channel for the past ten minutes. She's clearly worried, which is why she's talking about anything other than her brother.  
  
Magnus, thankfully, tries his hardest to diffuse the tension.  
  
"Let's talk about you, Solomon."  
  
"Yep, that's definitely my name," Simon claps his hands unenthusiastically.  
  
"No need to be so sour, your boyfriend will be fine."  
  
Simon sinks deeper into the couch, face red. Clary had found out about the two of them by walking in on them making out in her living room. Really, they weren't purposely trying to scar her, as she'd claimed, and no, they were not going to do anything,  _Clary, what the hell, we're just kissing._  
  
Of course, she'd told Izzy, who had told Alec, who'd then informed Magnus. They'd all said some variation of  _"finally"_  accompanied by an eye roll, but were genuinely happy for them. Their relationship is still relatively new, and Simon is unable to quell the giddy feeling inside when he thinks about how they're together — but honestly? He never wants to get over the way his heart races when he looks at his boyfriend.  
  
"I know," Simon mumbles in response, his worry for Jace rising the way it always does. He knows Jace will be fine, but he would like it a whole lot more if he were next to him right now.  
  
And, speak of the devil, Jace steps out onto the balcony, stretching, mask still on his face.  
  
"I would love a massage right now," he informs no one in particular, and Simon shoots out of his seat, rushing over to him.  
  
"Hey! Are you okay?"  
  
"Fine," Jace smirks at him, wrapping an arm around his waist. "I kicked ass, per usual."  
  
Izzy shuts her laptop, breathing a sigh of relief. “Saw you on the news! Thank God.”  
  
"You couldn't bother texting me back?" Alec asks, waving his phone in the air. "I sent you five texts. In a row."  
  
"The most he’s sent me in a row are three," Magnus mentions offhandedly, and Jace smiles apologetically at them all.  
  
"Adrenaline rush. Wasn't thinking of anything but getting in and getting out."  
  
Simon's mainly focusing on Jace's lips, because the mask more or less obscures everything else, making them his center of attention. Jace catches his look and his grin widens as he leans in closer to him.  
  
"Hey Magnus, the door was unlocked," Clary walks out onto the balcony, typing something on her phone with one hand, and crashes into Jace.  
  
"Oh, sorry —" she turns to look at him, and abruptly freezes. The bag she was holding crashes to the ground as she gasps, stepping back and slapping a hand over her mouth.  
  
Everyone on the balcony freezes, too.  
  
She looks surprised and confused at first, but realization dawns on her. "What?!" She finally shrieks, eyes widening in disbelief.  
  
Jace and Simon separate, and Jace holds his hands out in front of him. "Clary —"  
  
"Jace is — you're — Jace is the  _Shadowhunter_?" She exclaims, shocked, in the same way Simon was when he'd found out. Jace pulls his mask off, sighing.  
  
"Listen —"  
  
"Oh my God, what? How? And nobody told me about this?” Clary puts her hands on her hips, narrowing her eyes at them all. Then she turns, jabbing a finger at Simon. "You! You're a terrible liar! I knew something was up!"  
  
"Clary," Simon says feebly, "It’s a long story. I wanted to tell you, I swear, it just wasn't my secret to tell."  
  
“I told him not to tell you,” Jace cuts in quickly. “It’s on me.”  
  
"He's right," Izzy stands, stepping up to her. "Clary, we can't go around telling people about this, no matter how much we want to.”  
  
“It's for Jace’s own safety." Alec adds.  
  
"Maybe you should sit," Magnus' gestures to one of the chairs, "you look like you need to.”  
  
Clary studies all of them, looking conflicted and confused.  
  
"Okay. Fine, okay." She storms over to the seat he'd ushered to, and drops herself down on it. "You guys have a lot of explaining to do."  
  
Jace and Simon share a look, and Jace nods. "It's fine. I trust her."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
-  
  
Clary isn't angry for long — they explain things to her as best as they can, without mentioning Jace's childhood, and she understands for the most part, though she is disappointed to be the last one to know. Once she's over her initial shock, she starts piecing things together, and then mutters 'book club' under her breath and laughs at the excuse they'd used for Jace running off at Magnus' party.  
  
"That one goes to Simon," Izzy points at him and he rolls his eyes.  
  
"Thanks for throwing me under the bus."  
  
“Everything makes sense now,” Clary huffs, shaking her head.  
  
Jace leaves to change his clothes and Simon follows him after a second's hesitation.  
  
"Hey," he calls out, and Jace turns in the hall. "You're really okay with Clary knowing?"  
  
"Yeah," He sighs. "I'm not sure I want to talk about... My father. Not now, at least."  
  
Simon tugs him in by his jacket, smiling softly. "I'm proud of you, anyways. You saved all those people today."  
  
"What's new," Jace says, self-congratulatory, staring at Simon's mouth. Simon starts to say something else, maybe tell him to tone his smugness down a bit simply because he likes to mock Jace, but then he's being pressed against the hall and Jace is kissing him as if he hasn't seen him in ages, as opposed to a couple hours.  
  
"Do you want to go back to my place?" Simon whispers the words against his lips, and the mischievous glint in Jace's eyes when he finally pulls away answers the question for him.  
  
When they step outside of Magnus’ building, hand in hand, after Jace has changed into something less conspicuous, it’s starting to rain.  
  
It’s perfectly fine, though. Simon figures he quite likes the rain.  
  
 

**Author's Note:**

> I’m hoping I didn’t mess anything up too terribly and that I dealt with Jace’s //trauma// and such appropriately where it was all mentioned (but if you have any problems with it don’t hesitate to tell me how I can fix all of that!)
> 
> \- of course Luke knows why wouldn’t he
> 
> \- the real Sebastian Verlac is an absolute sweetheart and you can never convince me otherwise 
> 
> \- [my tumblr](http://www.anthonymackiie.tumblr.com), if you’re interested in talking and whatnot :-)
> 
> thanks!!!!! for reading! i love y’all.


End file.
